


Making it Count

by TruthandLies



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, College, Coming of Age, F/F, M/M, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28363005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruthandLies/pseuds/TruthandLies
Summary: To celebrate their final Christmas before graduating from Auradon Prep, the Rotten Four take an impromptu trip to a cabin on the edges of a snow-covered forest. But will they be able to stop fighting long enough to enjoy each other's company, or are things coming to an end for the VKs?
Relationships: Evie & Jay & Mal & Carlos de Vil, Evie/Mal (Disney), Jay/Carlos de Vil
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Making it Count

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taytayloulou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taytayloulou/gifts).



> Written as a Secret Santa gift for bunny-lou on Tumblr.

Mal winds the borrowed van through a landscape of frost, squinting to see through tufts of falling snow. Muted moonlight shines through the windshield, guiding her and the Rotten Four on this, the journey to their final prep school Christmas.

They sit in silence.

Jay leans against the rear passenger window, furrowing his forehead in silent thought.

Carlos, seated on the other side, toys with the remnants of a candy wrapper and stares into nothingness.

Evie, on Mal’s right, sends glances skittering throughout the car. Toward the boys. Toward the falling snow. Toward Mal, who has not looked at her since they slid into the warmth of the van two hours earlier.

Or since the fight they’d shared just before that.

Mal bunches her fingers around the steering wheel, trying to push the words, the looks, the feelings of that fight from her mind. _Trying and failing miserably._ She squeezes the wheel until her knuckles turn white, while the image of Evie’s biting, betrayed glare pushes through her mind.

 _What do you mean you aren’t going to college?_ Evie’s words had pinched together like the punches of a sewing machine. _We promised we’d go together._

Mal had hidden her gaze behind a fall of her hair. Anything to avoid that burning look in Evie’s eyes. _College just isn’t for me._ The lie tasted spoiled and burnt, like scorched milk meant to be sweet. She swallowed it down and turned her back. _Maybe it’s time we were apart, Evie._

 _Apart?_ Evie curled her fingers around Mal’s arm. _You’ve been pushing me away all year, and now you’re ready to run?_

Evie’s voice broke on the final word, and a fissure went through Mal’s heart.

She opened her mouth to answer, but the truth died on her tongue. _The boys will be here soon._ She pulled her arm away. _Get ready. I’ll warm up the van._

Now, as Mal turns the van around another curve leading to their rented cabin, the truth is bitter and hollow upon her tongue. She ignores Evie’s penetrating stare, the one strong enough to slip beneath her skin, and keeps her gaze focused on the tufts of snow illuminating this, one of the darkest nights of the year.

* * *

They round another turn taking them to the cabin, and Carlos scrunches the candy wrapper in his fist.

Jay still won’t look at him. Or talk to him. Or do anything but grunt, like he did when Carlos slid into the bucket seat beside him in the van.

Carlos tosses him a glance now. “Be good to get inside.”

Jay shrugs and offers a grunt.

Carlos sighs. “We’ll have to get a fire going. You know, to keep the place warm. Ben says the heat won’t kick on until tomorrow.”

“Whatever.” Jay runs his fingers along his tourney stick.

 _That stupid tourney stick._ Carlos stuffs the candy wrapper into his jacket pocket along with his fist. _That thing gets more attention than I do nowadays._

Jay lifts the stick in the space between seats and studies its tip, chipped from the previous year’s tourney championship. “Should probably get this thing fixed.”

 _Six words. More than he’s spoken to me in days._ Carlos leans closer. “You’ll need it in good shape for when you join the kingdom’s tourney league after graduation.”

Jay frowns at the stick. “Nah. League’ll give me a new one.”

“Oh.”

Jay drops the stick onto the floor, then turns his head to stare outside at the silhouettes of mountains lining the road.

Carlos searches for something, anything to say, to keep this conversation going. Words form on his lips, then fizzle and fade. _What do you say to a guy who’s decided you’re not good enough for him?_ He slinks into his seat. _I’ve already said everything I can, and all he does is grunt._

He turns his head to stare outside his own window at the lines of towering fir trees, a direct contrast to Jay’s mountain ranges.

* * *

Jay pushes from his seat the moment Mal parks at the edges of Sherwood Forest, where the cabin is a dark shape within a grove of pine trees. He stumbles and his toes collide with his tourney stick, kicking it half-beneath the seat in front. Grumbling, he bends to retrieve it.

“Here.” Carlos slides to his knees and reaches for the stick.

Their fingers touch. Touch and linger.

A warmth like a brush fire flickers beneath Jay’s fingertips. 

Carlos glances up, right into his eyes, and their gazes connect.

Jay snatches his hand away, flashing on the faces of his soon-to-be tourney teammates, who most definitely do not feel brush fires when they touch other guys.

Breaking eye contact with Carlos, he tugs his hand through his hair. “Leave it, man. Not like I’m gonna be playing tourney in the snow.”

“Are you –?”

Carlos doesn’t have time to ask whatever question he’s gonna ask because Jay steps over him and hops out of the van.

The girls are outside, staring in that annoying way they do, with questions and accusations written in their eyes. 

_Those two see everything._ Jay walks past them. “Do me a favor and bring my bag inside,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’m going looking for firewood.”

“Wow, Jay.” Mal’s voice is hexed with the kind of wicked vindictiveness she’d possessed back on the Isle. “Did you actually use up breath talking to us?”

Jay bunches his shoulders around his ears. “Don’t get used to it.”

He marches into the woods, leaving bootprints in the snow. His final words hang heavy in the frigid air, reminding him why they decided this trip was a good idea. _Bonding and all that._

Trips like these are dangerous. They lead to unwanted touches and unasked-for stares. Jay snatches a thick branch from the ground, then another. _Next year, we go our separate ways. We start our own lives. And no way am I agreeing to any more impromptu trips like this one._

For some reason, the thought leaves a hollow space in his chest.

* * *

Evie shivers awake in the early morning, tangled in a set of the cabin’s cotton sheets. The room is freezing. So cold, it makes her skin ache. She rolls over onto her side, hugging her knees to her chest, and stares through the window into the Christmas Eve morning.

The fir trees are still, the moon muted behind the fall of snow. Holly branches scratch the windowpane, their crimson berries the only splash of color in this winter world.

Evie’s mind ticks back to the Isle. _A holly bush grew there, too. I’ll always remember._

Remember the year she cut its branches and placed them around the Rotten Four’s Clubhouse. _For festive cheer,_ she’d said when Mal had arched a pointed eyebrow.

In the back-then, Mal had rolled her eyes and muttered something beneath her breath. But she’d stared at Evie’s decorations for longer than a heartbeat, her mouth scrunched up in that way it’s always scrunched when her mind and heart are full of secrets she doesn’t want to share.

The next day, more holly had been added, filling in the spaces left by Evie’s holly. Adding an artistic flair to Evie’s designer touch.

When Evie asked her about it, Mal’s cheeks turned pink. _If we’re going to decorate for Christmas, we might as well make it count,_ she said, staring at her boots.

Jay and Carlos stared at the holly, too. The day after that, a Christmas tree appeared in the Clubhouse. _Like you said,_ Jay said, hammering the tree into a cross of wooden planks while Carlos held it steady, _might as well make it count._

Evie’s heart had felt lighter than Gossamer fabric. It was the first time they’d all come together after their first adventures on the Isle. The first time they’d spent Christmas together, too, gathered around the tree, telling stories and making jokes.

 _Nothing like how we are this year._ In the here-and-now, Evie rolls over onto her back and stares at the ceiling. _Nothing like how things will ever be again._

After they’d arrived at the cabin and Jay had made the fire, they’d spent about twenty minutes together before they’d all escaped to different rooms. _Why don’t we sleep out here by the fire?_ she’d asked, but the boys had made excuses and Mal had given her an imperceptible dragon-eyed stare before each of three doors had shut and the locks had clicked.

Evie sighs. Her heart is a leaden weight, pressing her down into the mattress. _Our last Christmas before we all go our separate ways, and they want to treat it like it’s nothing more than a burden._

She tosses her gaze back to the holly and her mind back to memories of that first Christmas on the Isle. Resolve bubbles like warm water beneath her skin. _I won’t let them._

She kicks her blankets off and springs from the bed.

She dresses in her warmest clothes – a full-length blue jacket, knee-high blue boots and wooly blue mittens – and hushes from the room, clicking the door closed behind her.

In the living room, the dying fire glows with its final orange embers. She slides a poker from the stand beside the fireplace and pokes at the embers, making them flicker and flare. Selecting a few thick branches, she places them into the fledgling flames. The orange tongues lick at the wood, and the fire blazes back to life.

She slides off her mittens and raises her hands to the fire, brushing them together above the flames. Warmth washes across her skin, soothing her aches. _Much better than the chill that’s pervaded this place since last night._

With a sigh, she casts a glance toward Mal’s closed door. Her mind flickers back to the dragon-eyed stare Mal had offered just before she’d closed her door, and to the biting green glare she’d given when she’d confessed that she hadn’t applied to college.

The warmth washing across Evie’s skin turns cold, making her shiver.

Mal hasn’t given her looks like that since they lived on the Isle, when Evie was her nuisance and Mal was almost a stranger. Not Evie’s best friend. Not the girl Evie had woken up to every day for two years.

 _How am I supposed to wake up knowing she isn’t there?_ She turns her gaze from Mal’s door and stares into the flames. _Doesn’t she realize how important she is?_

An ache forms deep inside, in a place the warmth can’t reach. Evie turns her back on the fire with its broken promises of heat and gazes around at the cabin.

There are no decorations here. Nothing to mark the fact that today is Christmas Eve, or that the Rotten Four are spending the holiday together.

 _At least I can do something about that._ Evie shoves her hands back into her mittens. She grabs a few tools from some drawers and a closet, and then she disappears into the early December morning, her boots crunching pathways through the snow.

Three hours later, when her friends finally crack open their doors, shivering and rubbing at their eyes, the cabin is transformed. A Christmas tree perches in the middle of the living room, its emerald pine needles a warm contrast to the oranges and reds of the fire. Holly branches skirt along the mantle and the walls. A wreath of holly and berries rests upon the door. And several crimson candles flicker along the shelves.

Evie gazes at each of her friends: at Carlos, whose mouth hangs open, his gaze flicking to each of the decorations; at Jay, who takes a stumbling step into the room, a low whistle sounding from his throat; and at Mal, who gazes back not with a biting glare, but with a glance of warmth edged with something that makes Evie’s heart sprint.

The chill she’d felt deep inside flickers into a promise of heat. “Making it count,” she whispers, holding out her hands.

Mal winks. “Nice work.”

* * *

Things change. Become more bearable.

The girls sit together on the couch, stringing holly berries and popcorn onto strands to hang around the tree. And Carlos joins Jay in the kitchen on a mission to bake their weight in sugar cookies.

Breathing in the scent of fresh pine and cinnamon, Carlos pushes a wooden spoon through the mixture that will become dough.

Jay hovers over his shoulder, his warmth a caress against Carlos’ back. “Tasty,” he drawls, his voice in Carlos’ ear.

Carlos knocks back a breath. _Does he realize what he’s doing?_ “Should be,” he says, shifting a little to put some distance between them. _Last thing we need is another fight._

A mischievous chuckle sounds from Jay’s throat. He slides his hand into the bowl and pulls up a finger of dough mixture. 

Carlos holds up his hands. “Come on, man. That’s for the oven, not –”

Jay lunges and streaks the mixture along Carlos’ jaw. “Whatcha gonna do about it, buddy?”

Carlos tosses down his wooden spoon. “Fight back,” he growls and reaches for the bowl.

Jay holds it up high. “Too bad you never grew those extra inches,” he says, patting Carlos’ head.

A thrill of electricity bunches in Carlos’ stomach. _It’s just like always. Jay hassling me. Me hassling back._ He reaches up and traps Jay’s hand before Jay can give his head any more pats.

With Jay’s hand cupped beneath his own, a flare of warmth radiates between their skin.

Jay stops. 

Stops moving. 

Stops laughing. 

Stops breathing.

“Jay…” Carlos murmurs.

Jay blinks and snatches his hand away. “Come on,” he says, slamming the bowl onto the counter. “Let’s finish mixing this so we can eat.“

Just like that, the chill returns. Jay won’t look at him. Won’t talk to him. And when Carlos slides up beside him to finish stirring the dough, Jay shifts away.

“Fine, Jay.” Carlos kicks out at a cabinet, making a hollow wooden sound. “Whatever you want.”

* * *

On the couch in front of the fire, Evie is a warmth curled into Mal’s side. They sit together, stringing holly berries and popcorn to decorate the tree. Mal’s finger stings from three separate pricks of the needle, but her pain is a dull whisper quieted by Evie’s touch.

Mal slides a berry onto her thread. “I still can’t believe you did all this. How long did it take?”

“A few hours.” Evie pokes her needle through a piece of popcorn. “It was worth it, though.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm.” The corners of her lips curl into the beginnings of a smile. “I’d wake up even earlier just to see that look in your eyes, M.”

The warmth of the fire washes over Mal’s face. “What look?”

Evie spells her with a glance from the corner of her eyes, which have turned molten in the firelight. “The one you’re giving me right now. The one that’s happy and soul-deep and just for me.”

They gaze at each other for several scattered beats of Mal’s heart as the crackling fire does havoc on Mal’s body heat. 

Mal slips from her jacket, leaving it on the couch, and drops her gaze to her strand of popcorn-and-holly-berries. “I didn’t know I had such a look,” is the lie that slides from her tongue before she can replace it with something truthful.

Of course she knows. She knows her looks, and she knows that she has exactly three of them for Evie. 

The first, she offers when they’re watching TV or sharing Auradon gossip. The look of friendship.

The second, she punished her with last night when she wouldn’t let the college thing go. The look of dragon fire.

The third, she offers in the crimson firelight when Evie’s nestled in a ball by her side and heat that can’t just be firelight is warming Mal from head-to-toe. The look of all-things-dangerous.

Evie’s gaze is slip-beneath-Mal’s-skin penetrating. 

In the background, there is a clatter as the boys’ conversation becomes louder. “It was just a touch, Jay,” Carlos says, his voice edged.

“Keep it to yourself, man.” Jay slams open the oven.

But all Mal knows is the sensation of Evie’s stare. A sensation that sprinkles goose bumps along her skin. It’s so intense that Mal looks away and slides another berry onto her needle. 

The needle slips. The tip pokes into Mal’s skin. “Ouch.”

Evie drops her strand of popcorn-and-berries onto her lap and slides her hand around Mal’s, kneading Mal’s injury with the tips of her fingers. “What am I going to do without you?” she whispers, so low her words might be lost to the other sounds of the day. “When I go to college and you don’t?”

 _Great. The college thing. Again._ She tugs her hand from Evie’s and stabs the needle back into the berry. “Drop it, Evie.”

“Why?” Evie covers Mal’s needle with her hand. “We should really talk about it. You broke your prom –”

Mal tugs her hand away. “I said ‘drop it,’ Evie.”

A bang echoes from the kitchen. “Dammit, Carlos. You just ruined the dough.”

“You distracted me. I wouldn’t have dropped it if you hadn’t kept snatching your hand away every time I tried to touch the bowl.”

The argument is lost on Evie, who’s still staring at Mal. “Fine.” Her nostrils flare. “We won’t talk about it.” She jumps to her feet. “Just tell me one thing, Mal. Why did you lie to me about college?”

“That’s still talking about it, Evie!” A flare of dragon fire burns through Mal’s blood, and she jumps to her feet, too. Her strand of popcorn-and-berries falls to the floor. “And I didn’t lie!”

Evie throws out her arms. “Obviously, you did, or you’d be joining me in September.”

A ball of dough flies into the living room, smacking the branches of the Christmas tree. “What the hell are you doing, Jay?” Carlos cries.

Another bit of dough slams into the wall beside the fireplace, sliding onto a thatch of holly. “If we can’t eat it, you might as well wear it.”

Mal and Evie whip toward the sound.

The boys tumble into the living room, Carlos tugging at the bowl in Jay’s hands. The dough inside the bowl swishes this way and that. Carlos slams into the couch, and the bowl flies out of Jay’s hands. The dough soars up toward the ceiling, landing with a smack on the ground by Mal’s feet.

Mal stares at the dough. “So this is Christmas.” She jerks her gaze from the dough to the boys to the girl-with-the-power-to-make-her-blood-boil-and-her-heart-sprint. “Our very last together as the Rotten Four, and we’re throwing dough at each other and accusing each other of lies.”

Carlos blushes and stares at his feet.

Jay stares outside at the shivering pines, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

Evie stares at each of her decorations, her mouth puckered into a scowl.

Mal stomps her foot, smashing the dough beneath her boot. “What is going on, you guys?”

Carlos grits his teeth and raises his gaze to meet Mal’s. “For months, Jay’s been stealing touches with me. Until three weeks ago, when he signed onto the kingdom’s tourney league. Now, he won’t even look at me.”

Jay pushes his fists into his pockets, but his gaze remains glued to the trees.

Evie glares at a bunch of holly, where a glob of dough hangs heavy on the leaves. “You know why I’m upset, M. We were supposed to go through college together, and you didn’t even apply.”

Mal swipes the dough from the floor. “Here’s what I know,” she says, balling it in her fists. “Jay, you’ve been walking around with a swagger since you got accepted to the league.”

Jay whips his gaze to Mal, opening his mouth to argue.

Mal holds up her hand. “Don’t. You know it’s true. You’ve barely spoken a word to me and Evie since.”

Jay twists his mouth into a jagged line, and a hint of pink colors his face.

Mal tosses the dough back into the bowl, which spins in a circle on the ground. She stares at its movement. “Evie, I didn’t lie,” she whispers. “I did apply. I just didn’t get in.” The truth burns her throat, a searing brand of shame. “I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to major in, so I left it blank. Colleges like girls who know what they want.”

She cannot look at Evie.

Not even when Evie moves toward her, a soft “M…” drifting like a caress from her lips.

Mal shakes her head. “That’s what I know,” she says. “And honestly, I have no idea how to fix any of this. It’s our last Christmas together, and we’ve fallen apart.” She turns her gaze to the front door, with its promise of ushering in a solitary winter world. “And I really can’t be in this room with any of you right now.”

She steps away from her friends. She steps away from the living room and out the front door. She away steps from the warmth of the fire, leaving it behind for the cold of the winter woods.

The chill blankets her skin and leaves her numb.

* * *

Emotions war through Jay’s blood. He pushes his fisted knuckles into the seams of his jacket and steps to the window.

Mal’s standing outside at the bottom of a snowy hill, staring up at the steel-grey sky. _Not even wearing a coat._ A bite of guilt gnaws at his gut.

Carlos and Evie are behind him, pinning with the weight of their stares.

 _They have no idea what to say to me._ A sigh drifts up from somewhere deep inside of him. _Moment of truth._ “You guys ever been afraid?” 

Silence stretches between them. He can’t see their faces, but he knows his friends are giving each other looks, trying to figure out how to answer. 

He’s never once admitted to being afraid, not even when they fought other gangs on the Isle. The truth hangs heavy in the air.

“Sure,” Evie says, her voice gentle with a hint of warmth. “I’m afraid now, with each of us going in different directions.”

“Exactly.” Jay turns from the window and points at her. “Before now, we knew what the future held. Classes at Auradon. Meals in the kitchens.”

“Games and comfort in our rooms.” Carlos lifts a corner of his lips, offering a half-smile.

The gesture strikes a match of heat in Jay’s chest. “Exactly,” he repeats, his voice softer now. “Everything planned out.”

Evie steps to the window. “Things can’t be that way forever, though.” She raises her hand to the windowpane, cupping the glass with her palm. “We grow up. Do our own thing. Life moves on. So do we.”

Carlos’ half-smile falls, and something hollow echoes through Jay’s heart. Without thought, he reaches for Carlos’ hand.

Carlos jerks his gaze toward Jay, arching a brow.

This time, Jay doesn’t look away. “I’ve been a jerk,” he says. “Too worried about the unknown to focus on the here-and-now.” He tucks their fingers together, the beginnings of wildfire kindled in their touch. “I’m sorry, man.”

Carlos’ smile springs back to life, full and beaming. “’Bout time you admitted it.” He knocks his shoulder against Jay’s arm.

Jay chuckles, then turns his gaze to Evie. “I’m sorry, E. To you and Mal. You’re my friends. I need you in my life.”

Evie spins from the window. “That’s a good thing. Because you’re stuck with us.”

“Swear it?”

Evie nods. “On everything wicked and rotten.”

Jay grins. “Good.” He glances back out at the December forest, where Mal has perched herself on top of a snow-crusted rock, a sketch pad open on her lap. “Someone’s gotta go talk to her.”

“I will,” Evie says.

Jay grabs Mal’s coat off the couch and hands it to Evie. “Tell her I’m sorry.”

“Of course.” Evie takes the coat and steps out of the cabin into the snow.

With a gleam in his eye, Carlos brushes Jay’s jaw with a kiss. “Nicely done,” he whispers.

His words are punctuated by a clinking sound coming from the vents, followed by a blast of heat. Jay blames it entirely for the flame warming his cheeks. 

He ducks his head as a goofy grin splits his face. “Whatever.”

* * *

The snow swirls down in drifts of white, nipping at Evie’s cheeks and nose. Her breath comes out in puffs of frost. She bows her head against the cold and warms her hands beneath Mal’s leather jacket, crunching a path toward the hill behind the cabin.

Mal comes into sight, her purple hair a splash of color among so much white.

She sits on a rock beneath a towering pine tree, its branches white with snow. Her hand is a flurry of motion along her sketchpad, her pencil weightless in her fingertips. Her fingers glide upon the page, drawing lines and angles and shapes that match her surroundings.

Her shoulders are hunched, curved in to protect her from the cold. But her lips are tilted upward, her features calm and peaceful.

A hum of warmth radiates through Evie’s chest. Mal-the-Artist has emerged in the forest, a snow nymph with a pencil-in-hand, bringing the winter woods to life in a sketch. _How could I have ever thought she’d be happy doing anything but this?_

Even in the back-then, when Mal hung more holly around the Clubhouse, it was because she wanted to add to the decorative flair. She wanted to make it count with her own artistic touch.

Evie takes a step toward her best friend, and the snow crunches beneath her boot.

Mal glances up. Her smile teeters. “Hey.”

“Please don’t stop.” Evie’s words push together in a rush. “I like watching you draw.”

Mal’s gaze drifts to her sketch, where a few snowflakes have fallen. She brushes them away with a caress of her hand. “No, it’s okay,” she says, running her fingers along a penciled pine tree. “You were right before. We really should talk.”

“Okay.” Evie crunches a path to Mal. “I have your jacket.” Taking a seat on the frigid rock, which makes her legs ache, she slides Mal’s jacket over Mal’s shoulders. “It’s freezing out here, M. What were you thinking?”

Mal clings to the halves of her coat, tightening it around her body, as Evie’s words fill the space in the silence that follows. Words that mean so many things.

_What were you thinking, sitting out here in the cold?_

_What were you thinking, not telling me you weren’t accepted to college?_

_What were you thinking, pushing me away when you could have told me the truth?_

Evie slides her hand over Mal’s, warming Mal’s frigid fingers beneath her palm. “Did you really think you couldn’t tell me the truth? That I would have liked you any less?”

Mal cringes and closes her eyes. “You were so excited, E. I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

An ache pierces Evie’s heart. She slides her free hand to Mal’s cheek, smoothing her thumb along the crease where Mal’s eyes close. “You could never disappoint me. You’re M and I’m E, and that’s the way it will always be.”

Mal trembles on a breath. “Even if I never go to college?”

Evie’s thumb stills. “Look at me, M.”

Mal blinks her eyes opened, gifting Evie with the sight of a green more vibrant than the forest’s pine trees. “I tried, Evie. I really did. But…”

Evie nods at Mal’s sketchbook. “But you never really wanted college, did you? Or school. You want to spend your life creating art.”

Mal’s gaze drops to her sketchbook. The splendor of the winter forest gazes back, scripted with the strokes of a pencil. “I wanted this,” she whispers, smoothing the sketch beneath her hand. “And,” she says, gazing back up at Evie, “I wanted you.”

Their gazes meet for one frosted breath, then two, as a thrill of electricity sings through Evie’s blood.

She leans forward and touches her lips to Mal’s. “You’ve got me,” she murmurs into the kiss.

A sound half-dragon, half-fae pushes from Mal’s throat, and she cups the back of Evie’s head with her hand, deepening the kiss.

Several sprints of her heart later, Evie leans her forehead against Mal’s. “We’ll figure things out. Together.”

“Promise?”

Evie nods, tapping another kiss onto Mal’s lips. “I do.”

Mal wraps her arms around Evie, hugging her long enough to erase the chill of winter.

Lost in Mal’s touch, Evie almost doesn’t hear the crunch of snow. But it becomes louder, and someone clears their throat.

Mal and Evie glance up from their rock to discover the boys standing there, holding the ropes to two sleds apiece, four altogether.

“It’s Christmas,” Carlos says, gesturing back at the sleds.

Jay tilts his chin toward the hill. “And since there’s a hill, we thought maybe we could celebrate VK style.”

“VK style, huh?” Mal rises from the rock, sliding her sketch pad and pencil into the back pocket of her pants. “Does this mean you’re done being a jerk, Jay?”

Evie bounces to her feet. “I’m supposed to tell you that he’s sorry.”

Mal tilts her head, daring Jay with a flash of her eyes. “Are you?”

“Definitely.” Jay nods. “I was afraid.”

“You?” Mal arches an eyebrow. “Afraid?”

“Yup.” Jay puffs out his chest, as if admitting this truth has made him prouder, somehow. “And you know what? I really don’t have to be. I’ve got you guys.”

Mal’s features soften, the artist within transforming the rough angles of her expression into softer lines. “Of course you do. We’ve got each other.”

“Yeah, we do.” Carlos holds out his free hand, making a fist. “To staying together.”

Evie joins her fist with Carlos. “To staying friends.”

Jay adds his fist. “To forever and all that counts.”

Mal studies their hands, narrowing her eyes as if thinking about it.

“C’mon, M.” Evie bumps Mal’s hip with her own. “VKs forever?”

Mal rolls her eyes. “You guys drive me crazy.” She moves her hand into the circle. “But okay. Friends again. Friends forever. You know, and all that counts.” Her lips twist into a smile. “Because we’re rotten…”

“…to the core,” the trio finishes.

The Rotten Four bump fists, sealing forever with a chorus of cheers.

* * *

The stars fan out across the sky, one of them shining brighter than all the rest, as Mal takes to the top of the hill with her friends. Together, they slide into their sleds. Mal slides her hand into Evie’s. Carlos slides his hand into Jay’s. They exchange gazes, and then they release a collective whoop and slide down the hill in the Christmas snow.

“VKs forever!” Jay shouts.

“Friends forever!” Carlos echoes.

“To making it count!” Evie cries.

A feeling of weightlessness soars through Mal’s stomach. She has no idea what the future holds for any of them. Carlos hasn’t even gotten his college letters yet, and she and Evie have to decide on living arrangements. But for tonight, as the stars shine bright within the sky, they have each other. And really, that’s enough.


End file.
